


Compos Mentis

by cryforwhat



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Compost, Gen, M/M, also let's pretend English is my first language, humanure, organic food, the compost fic that no one asks for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-08 00:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15231822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryforwhat/pseuds/cryforwhat
Summary: Will has no plastic at home.A fic I wrote last year. It's about Will's childhood, compost and humanure.





	Compos Mentis

Will has no plastic at home.  
  
Not that there isn't any bit of it, but he avoids using plastic products as much as possible. The reason behind this is not because he is allergic to it.  
  
"I have five Rs: Refuse, Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, and Rot. Only in that order."  
  
Hannibal's only complaint with that is the fact that those five words are not in alphabetical order.  
  
Will is one of those people who would bring their own green bags to buy groceries in bulk.  
  
He puts a mason jar filled with unknown scraps on the table: "Here is the waste I have produced in the past year."  
  
Hannibal raises one of his nonexistent eyebrows.  
  
"I live a so-called zero waste lifestyle."  
  
"Excuse me, what about your…"  
  
"I compost everything that is compostable, including my excreta, in case you are curious."  
  
"I already knew that. But what about your sex life?"  
  
"My right hand and tissues are enough."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Trash is for tossers."  
  
==  
  
Born in the backwaters of Louisiana, and then spending most of his teenage years in an old RV as his father, William Sr, was always between jobs at that time, the "white trash" label almost branded Will for life, at least, back when Will was still "Willy", used as an excuse to tease him by school bullies who still haunt him sometimes.  
  
Willy never had a golden ticket. Willy never had a chance to taste good treats. Life on the road also made it impossible for them to grow any edible plants as they barely had elbow room, let along keeping pets.  
  
Willy's only companion was his father, a man of a few words and even less warmth. He did not mistreat Willy. After his mother had gone, Senior simply didn't care for paternal bond anymore.  
  
Willy liked fishing, a necessary skill taught by his father, simply due to the fact that fish was one of the most nutritious and delicious food supplies that came in abundance if you got the right trick up your sleeve. Senior once joked that Willy had learned to gut and scale a fish even before he finished potty training.  
  
Well, there went Smelly Willy.  
  
Living in a trailer also meant that clean water was always an issue, thus they didn't have the luxury of a flush toilet, instead, they got a plain old toilet seat on top of a five-gallon bucket, a so-called compost toilet unit, which was pretty standard for an old RV as they couldn't afford a fancier one. From a young age, Will had known that after doing your business, as long as you covered the turd with enough sawdust, it wouldn't stink.  
  
Senior, who had a strict don't-eat-where-you-shit principle, always disposed the contents of the bucket when it was half full.  
  
One summer, Willy's father got a construction job which paid okay, well, meager for a family of two anyway, and since Willy needed to go to school for the new semester, they settled their trailer in the nearby trailer park for the time being. And by then Willy had taken up the responsibility of handling the dung bucket.  
  
Obviously other people in the park had the same idea. They all dumped their waste into a large waste pipe and straight into the dark soil outside, where it ran down an slope, when you rounded the corner, a big drain met the eye. Willy first noticed the drain not because of the odor - there wasn’t any that he could remember - but because of the thick growth of tomatoes, corns and many other vegetables that cascaded down the slope below the drain.  
  
Who would plant a veggie garden in such an unlikely spot? Willy asked around, but the answer was no one. As it turned out, the seeds sprouted from human excretions.  
  
Whenever they needed some vegetables for a meal, they didn’t have to go far. Nobody talked about it, but everyone in the park did that. Willy was not ashamed of it, but was shocked when he went to college and tasted tomatoes that were way less juicier and sweeter than the ones in the compost garden.  
  
It could be said that vegetables grown in humanure were an acquired taste.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Feedbacks are always welcome.


End file.
